Always
by SelfDestructIn54321
Summary: Tris gets pregnant like around the war with Erudite. Beware of infrequent updates.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Disclaimed. SOTD: Florence And The Machine/Heavy In Your Arms.**

Prologue

"_TOBIAS!__'"_Screamed a voice, all too familiar to me. My knife shot out against my opponent's—pale-faced with light hair—throat, and he fell to the ground; my eyes were searching the crowd. "TOBIAS!"

There she was. Short, slight, caramel-haired, her eyes a sea of gray.

The war went on around us, and I dodged a blade.

Tris was running, too. She was much shorter than the other warriors, even the girls, but then, she'd always been small.

Always.

"Tris!" I shouted. My feet carried my forward faster; I needed to protect her, needed to help her, needed to sheild her.

Why was she here, I was thinking, but I'm not Erudite. I don't think I ever would have found out, if she didn't- Anyway, I'm telling this in order, right?

I was only around fifteen feet away from her when he stepped out of the crowd. My feet tried to stop, but I only ran faster. "Tris! BEHIND YOU!"

She only turned a bit. Not even all the way, before Eric placed the gun to her head. I slowed, walking non-threateningly to them.

_Don't kill her, don't kill her, _I was thinking.

She whispered something pleadingly, defiantly. His face redened, an one hand grabbed a knife, lowering it to her stomach.

"Don't touch her!" I yelled, but he wasn't paying attention to me.

"Maybe just a little off the top," he said. "I hear they get long hair, you know-"

I tackled him, grabbing the knife. A shot rang out, but seemed to just meld in with the battle chaos around me.

"It's your fault, you know." Eric said. "Bye, Stiffy!"

The knife went through his head, and his eyes went flat. I spun, and saw her, lying on the ground. What was she doing, half my brain said. Why was she lying down, she was gonna die.

But the other half said that she was already dying, anyway.

My hand smoothed her hair back. "Tris," I said. "Tris, honey, we have to go."

Her lips formed a watery smile. "Tobias," she whispered. "Tobias, I'm pregnant."

"What?" I wasn't convinced; it was just my mind playing tricks on me.

Her hand trembled as she grabbed my wrist; she pulled my hand from the extra gun in my belt and settled it on her stomach, gazing into my eyes. "Tobias. I'm pregnant."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . .

My hand carressed the glass between me and my daughter.

(**Her name doesn't exsist, I made it up) **We came up with her name while Tris was pregnant; spelled Islode, pronounced, Izz low dee.

"Four," said a voice from behind me. Caleb. "Four, it's Tris-"

"What about Tris?" I asked sharply.

"Someone slipped death serum into her IV-"

"Why did she have an IV?! You said she was healthy!" I began running to her room.

"No, you don't understand! _She fought the death serum."_

"So? Then why did you tell me?!"

"It's David. He saw that it didn't work, and so he finished the job with a gun-"

"Move. _Move."_ I growled, and pushed him away when he didn't. I ran to her room. "Tris?" I asked.

She wasn't there.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Disclaimed. SOTD: Evanescence/Even In Death.**

**P.S., I almost cried writing this chapter. Heads up.**

Chapter 2

"Now how does that make you feel?" Asks Monica Mullins.

"What?" I ask blankly.

"I said, how does that make you feel?"

"I know what you said!" I snap. "I'm not schizophrenic!"

"Do you know what that means?"

"Bye!" I exclaim, and begin towards the door.

"Four, wait." Monica says. I look back; her voice is soft, like she actually cares. "That'll be four-hundred and eighty-five bucks."

"Fuck you!" I yell.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I don't bother turning on any lights.

The light from the fridge turns the gray tile white; everything's gray, I think, sipping orange juice out of the carton. When it's empty, I dump it in the trash. Then, I rub my eyes and lean against the wall.

Ugh.

The door opens, and something latches onto my leg; it's Islode. I pick her up, and she tugs on my hair. "Daddy! Tina crashed the car!" I smooth Islode's dark brown curls, and gaze into her eyes, copies of Tris's.

I can't help the tear that traces my cheekbone at her name, even if it is just a thought.

Izzy touches my cheek. "Daddy, what's wrong?" She asks.

"It's nothing, honey," I say, and set her on the ground. "You can go to your room, honey, color." Izzy smiles widely, and runs into the living room.

I smile after my daughter.

But then, I hear a sigh by the door. "If you're going to kill me, hurry up." Says a dreadfully familiar voice.

My smile disappears.

"Tina, you crashed _my_ car, with _my_ daughter in it-"

"Would you stop it with that?! I don't even like Izz-low-pee!" Well, that was low. "_I hate your daughter! _She's just a reminder of that little bitch, Beatrice-" She was cut off when I threw a knife at her face. She puts a hand up to her ear; I nicked it. "You bastard!" She yells.

"Get. Out. Of. My. _House."_ I hiss, and she stumbles backwards.

"Fine!" She says, and grabs the knob, turning her back to me. "I'll just leave you and bitch Jr. alone, then."

A beat after she leaves, a knife randomly imbeds itself in the door.

Fucking knifes. Jumping out of drawers.

I sink to my knees and begin to sob.

Tina was my girlfriend; she was awesome: liked to crash my cars, rid me of alchohol, and scare my kid half to death.

I didn't love her as much as Tris, not even half as much. I wasn't sure why I even kept her around.

. . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Why did I torture myself?

Keeping Tris alive in my mind was much more painful than it had been with even my mom. The memories with her. The time I spent with her now haunted me.

Tris was a drug, and I was addicted. (**Sorry for the cl****iché!)**

.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Eventually, I got up. I dried my cheeks with a paper towel, and went to tuck my angel in.

But, that night, when I sit down in bed, I let the full force of my emotions take over.

Never will you seen a grown man bawl as bad as I did.

**Guys, it's coming. This isn't just a Tobias-getting-over-Tris thing. I promise. I SWEAR ON ISLODE. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Dislaimer: Disclaimed. SOTD: Ellie Goulding/Figure 8 for the dream. Flyleaf/All Around Me for after the dream. **

Chapter 3

_Her eyes are a mixture of gray and blue, and I've already fallen in love with them. My hand goes up above me, carressing her face. The ceiling and walls that I can see are all white._

"_Hi, Tobias." She whispers, and a tear drops from her eye to my face._

_My hand slips down to her throat, grasping the back of her neck, and abruptly pull her face close to mine. She gasps, but I smile. "Hi, Tris." I say, and pull her down the rest of the way. _

_Her lips make contact with mine, and one side of her mouth quirks up. She places her hands one either side of my face. _

_I pull away, and trace kisses down her neck; she grabs my neck and pulls me on top of her, lying herself out flat on the white ground, and I make sure to balance myself so none of my weight is on her. She laughs against my mouth and tangles her hands in my hair. _

"_Tobias," she whispers, and I pull back to look at her. "Tobias, I'm sorry."_

_I open my mouth, to tell her that she has nothing to be sorry for, it wasn't her fault, that _I'm_ sorry._

_Instead, I stab her._

_. . . . . . . . . .. .. ._

I bolt awake, hands patting the air in front of me, searching for her, to make sure she's okay, but of course she isn't there.

My Tris isn't here.

"Tobias . . . " A low gasp sounds from my mouth at her voice.

"Tris . . . ?" I whisper, looking around the darkness.

"Tobias . . . I miss you. I want to see you," says her voice.

"Tris?" I whisper again.

"I want to see her."

"Tris. . . . " _Maybe I am crazy._

A brush on my arm; I jump, and turn, throwing myself away from it; in it's place, is a dully glowing figure with long hair and dark clothing. Her nose is long and her eyes—gray-blue—are big.

It's Tris.

She smiles sheepishly. "Hi, Tobias."

And my vision goes black.

**Hey, lovelies! I wanted to get this out now, 'cause I'm pretty sure I'm not gonna be updating in the morning. Review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Disclaimed. SOTD: Icon For Hire/Iodine.**

Chapter 4

Fingers smooth my hairline; when she talks, cool breath dusts my cheek. "Tobias. . . . I didn't mean to frighten you. . . . Please wake up."

"Mmmmm," I expell, refusing to open my eyes.

"Tobias . . . look at me." I don't move, but her thumb wiped away a tear. "Tobias, I know you're awake. Please look at me." When I don't respond, she shifts closer to my tense frame, and whisperss into my ear. "_Please."_

My eyes open, but I unfocus them and stare at the ceiling. I can't look at her, I _can't, _'cause then she'll be real, and then I'll _really _be crazy.

"Tobias? What's wrong?"

"You're _dead,"_ I ground out through my teeth. "You're not real."

"Toby . . . I am real."

"I was at your funeral, Tris-" I winced at her name, and the rest of my sentence came out clipped, neutral. "-I punched your brother in the face."

"Yeah, that was kinda funny." She said, and her face interrupts my vision. "And I am dead-"

"_Then how are you here?!" _My voice was sharp, urgent. A single tear fell one eye before she burried her face in my neck.

"I'm your ghost, Toby."

My neck felt wet. She was crying. My hand went up and cupped her back.

"I forgive you," I whisper to her, and she gasps. "Even if you are just a dream."

I guess she dismisses that last comment, because she sits up and presses her lips to mine. My other hand goes to her neck, and she makes a noise, a _don't stop, _her hands tangling in my too-long hair.

I press my hand firmer into her back, and roll, so she's underneath me; she gasps against my mouth. She tastes like salt.

One of her hands moves to my neck, pushing me closer, and when my hands lower to the last button on her shirt, she gasps and then disappears.

Did I just wake up?

_She wasn't real. _I'd resigned that no, she wasn't real, but it still felt like electroshock on my brain, the realization.

_She isn't real. She isn't real. She isn't real. _

No Tris.

I lean back on my bed, placing my hands over my eyes. _She isn't real. She was never real._

I sigh, and my head pulses. _Breathe, Tobias._

"Sorry!" Exclaims a voice, and I sit up straight, peering in the corners. "Sorry, sorry, sorry!"

"Tris?" I throw my legs over the side of the bed, looking in her direction.

"I am so sorry, Tobias, I swear, I didn't mean to Wisp out like that!" She steps into my view, smiling a sheepish smile. She walks over and wraps her hands around the back of my neck, sitting on my lap and crossing her legs over my back.

"Wisp?" I ask.

"Um, yeah. Wisp. It's like . . . teleporting. Between Death and Life. Like, places, I'm really dead."

"Oh." I whisper, and she looks up at me.

"What?"

"Nothing." I say, and a smile fights its way onto my face. "Nothing."

Her eyebrows come together, but my head dips and our lips press together. "Hey, Tris." I say against her mouth, and for once, it doesn't feel like my heart squeezes when I say her name. "You're alive," I say. "You're alive."

"No." She disagrees. "No, Tobias—I'm haunting you."

My eyes open and gaze into hers, and I pull back a bit. "Always." I promise.

She nods.

"Always."


	5. AN

**Hey, lovelies. I have some horrible news. I won't be updating for another week. I'm going on a weeks long camping trip. Without Internet.**

**Dammit. **

**I'll update in bulk when I get into my house and get Internet, but it's gonna be a while, lovelies.**

**Story Recommendation: Tris's Secret, by BeBraveTris123.**

**- Cassie.**


	6. Chapter 5

**Well, lovlies, here it is. I was struggling a lot with writing this chapter. But I got an idea, obviously, so here we are! Oh, BTDubbs, you should really review if you like my stories. The only reason I'm updating is because ReadingIsPeace is slowly going through my stories and reviewing on the ones she likes. You review, I know that you want another chapter. So, yeah. Please review, for your sake and mine. Then, I'll know what stories to update now, and which to leave to leisure time. Disclaimer: Disclaimed. SOTD: Angels/The xx. **

**Also, I've never taken Valium, so sorry if I get this wrong. I'm just gonna go with good old-fashioned extreme disorientaion. Enjoy. Review. **

**I'm making Tris have long hair, if I didn't already say that.**

Chapter 5

I kept thinking that she'd dissapear. That, between one second and the next, while I was tending to Islode, or ignoring Zeke, or not talking to Will about proposing to Christina, that when I looked back over at her, I'd be looking at air. That she'd dissappear.

She didn't.

After I'd written her existence down as a dream, she'd curled up to my side like a cat, and fallen asleep. I'd gone not long after, and was not surprised to wake up to my usual nightmare of a recolection of her dying again. It was normal.

She, however, was not used to it, ghost or not.

I threw myself out of bed, waking her. It would be comical if wasn't scared out of my fucking mind. I, flying off of the mattress, slamming into the wall, and falling on my face. Rolling onto my back, gasping. An angelic blonde head popping over the edge of the bed.

Here's the Not Funny part.

I didn't see her more than a minute before I flipped onto my knees, pulling the drawer in my night table out loudly, so hard it bounced back and tried to close again. I didn't let it, actually jerking it out of the night stand, and upended it onto the ground. Stupid shit littered the floor, bandages and muscle rub and mints and pens and books and whatever the Hell else I'd acquired.

I ignored it all, grabbing for the little orange prescription bottle, almost cracking the plastic opening it. Tobias Eaton, it said. The Erudite who'd prescribed it knew my name, but luckily, she was the only one. I couldn't look at her when she was talking to me. She was a blonde. Not Tris's caramel color, but a sort of white-blonde. Still. That was two years ago. After my first panic attack, the day after Tris died.

I dumped some of the Valium in my hand and swallowed them, only letting my hand deposit the two I was supposed to take. Sliding the others back into the bottle, capping it, it dropped onto the floor, a sort of gray quality taking on the world. I moved slowly.

Something touched my shoulder, squeezing, too hard. My head moved. A girl was looking at me. My eyebrows came together, before I recognized her. Caramel-blonde hair, long, blue gray eyes, more gray than blue at the moment. Tris.

My lips shaped her name, but her mouth opened.

"Tobias, what the _Hell _did you just take?!" She yelled. My back was against the bed; when I didn't answer, she flew up off the bed, pawing around the mess until she found the bottle. She stayed bent over a minute, reading, before dropping it and slumping to the floor with relief.

My eyes shut and I took deep breaths. When I opened them, Tris was sitting by my feet.

I made a sound and looked at the floor.

"Tobias." She said intently. "Do you take those because of me?"

I shook my head, not replying.

"_Do you?" _She said. I shook my head harder, refusing to tell her anything. Because if she knew it _was_ because she died, she would blame herself. And it wasn't her fault. "_ANSWER ME!" _She screeched.

"Daddy?!" Islode's voice. I took my hands from my face, swallowed, hard, and kept my eyes shut before opening my mouth.

"Yes, honey?" My voice was a little husky with emotion that could be mistook with tiredness.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Why, what's up?"

"Who's yelling?"

My head went up. "No one, Islode, honey, just go back to sleep. I had a nightmare."

"Like the ones I have about rocks?"

_Rocks?_ Whispers Tris.

_Peter, _I mouth back to her. _I thought only I could see you? Hear you, I mean._

"Yeah, baby, like yours. Are you okay? Did you have a nightmare, too?"

"No." She claims. "But I heard a girl yelling."

"_Rocks?!" _Whisper-yells Tris.

"Later." I say. "Should I. . . . "

"How old is she?"

"Two." I whisper.

"If she can keep a secret. I'm not even supposed to be talking to _you."_

I sigh. Then, I get up, brush off my cheeks, like I always did after one of those nightmares, and walked over to her room.

I lifted her from her crib, and she brushed her hand over my face, her palm slipping over tears I'd missed.

"Who's here?" She asked.

"C'mere, Islode, let's get some breakfast first." I grab her some socks and put them on her feet before taking her into the kitchen and setting her in her highchair; after setting some eggs on the stove, I went back into my room. Tris was still on the floor.

When she saw me, anger in her eyes, she commented, jaw set, "_Rocks?!"_

"Shh!" I replied. "I let Chris babysit while I went to the doctor to get _those-" _I pointed at the Valium. "-And Chris was freaking out. Islode was gone. I ran. When I found Peter, he was in the Pit, throwing rocks at her. She wasn't even a fucking week old."

Tris swallows. "Did you hurt him?" She asks, squeezing her hands into fists.

"Well, if you call throwing someone into the Chasm 'hurting' someone, then yeah." I said, with an angry exhalation. "She's had those nightmares ever since."

"Bastard," breathed Tris. "Did you get in trouble?"

"They said he jumped. Everyone who was there. He said he'd tell Max that they were abusing her, if they interfered. Uriah saw him at the same time I did. He took her to the infirmity while I. . . . She wants to meet you."

"When?"

"After breakfast. Which is probably burning."

"I'll go put on something presentable." She said, and I kissed her before I went back into the kitchen.

"You remember remember what I told you about your mother?"

"Sure," she swallows a bite of eggs. "She was very selfless and very, very brave, and she loved me very much."

"Yep," I said. I took a deep breath. Ripped off the band aid. "Your mother's dead."

"Daddy." She sounded appalled. She'd stopped eating.

"I just want you to know that, okay? She dead, and the dead don't come back to life. But she wants to talk to you."

"_Daddy."_

_God, I hope this is real._

"Tris." I call. She edges into the room. Islode drops her fork with a clatter. She's wearing a layered tank top, black, mint-colored flats and jeans. Her eyes are outlined in black and her fingernails are painted in the color. "This is your daughter. Islode, this is your mom."

Tears welled up in her eyes. "Mommy. . . . "

**Ah, cliffy. Do you think I'm evil? **


End file.
